


Trust and Luck

by BirdInTheCave



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Family, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, for like two seconds, found a kitten trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 22:03:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18859996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdInTheCave/pseuds/BirdInTheCave
Summary: Clint found a kitten on the way home from an unintentional run out in the rain. Of course, being Clint Barton, he decided to take the kitten home. What kind of Hawkeye would he be if he didn't take in every stray he came across? Coming home, he gets to introduce the new member of his make-shift family to the rest of his strays.





	Trust and Luck

**Author's Note:**

> Onceuponaprincey gave me the word kitten when I asked for one word. This is the result. I plan to possibly write more stories in the same universe as the one with this new kitten, let me know if you're interested so I can get on it.

Clint trudged through the pouring rain. Usually, it didn’t bother him much, in fact he’s been stuck out in downpours for hours on end before. On normal occasions these situations included a purpose and preparation. Now, he’d just been caught in the storm while out on a run and was now stuck walking home with socks that made an audible squelch with each step and hearing aids that fizzled on occasion thanks to the fact they weren’t suitable for the weather. Perfect. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his sleeveless hoodie, his flesh long since numb to the cold, and cringed when his left ear got an impressively loud crackle. He ground his teeth together and clenched his hidden hands into fists. His frustration was dissolved suddenly when he heard a sad little mewl. 

He paused and listened, unsure if he’d actually heard the sound. When he heard it again, a pathetic little “mew” that bounced off the walls of a slender alley a few feet behind him, his grim and perpetually annoyed expression softened considerably. Carefully, he backtracked and peered into the alleyway. It was dark, the clouds above and the harsh rain making it hard to see, but his vision focused quickly thanks to years of practice and close-calls. It took a moment for him to properly scan the stretch of pavement but it wasn’t hard to spot the sopping wet cardboard box stereotypically crumpled against the wall. There was a mass of black trying to crawl out of the wet box, short legs with heavy fur hanging from the limbs clawed at the walls in attempt to get a grip good enough to use. Clint was sure the sound of sympathy that left him was strained, likely a little hurt. If any member of his team had been there he would’ve been called out, for sure. 

Clint stepped into the alley with silent ease, the narrow passageway giving him only a few feet of elbow room but it was way more than he needed to move efficiently. It took only a few long strides from him to land in front of the box. He crouched slowly, extending a hand slowly in order to determine the soaked black kitten’s personality. At first, big orbs of cool gray simply blinked at him before one of the paws batted his arm away as if to say “go away, I can do it myself.” Clint grinned, leaning back with hands raised in surrender, and watched as the small creature continued to claw at the broken edges of its cardboard home. While it made its attempts Clint observed. Its ribs were clearly showing, the bumps of its spine starting to show while leathery flesh and fur continued to thin and stretch. The kitten looked barely 4 months old, small and frail, and Clint wondered both where the mother and the siblings were. It was after the kitten had toppled back for the fifth time that it seemed to give up, sitting back and staring at Clint with determined eyes. Again, Clint could practically imagine the cat speaking, saying, “Well, what are you waiting for?” 

With a gentle laugh, Clint extended his hand again, watching at the kitten sniffed his fingers and bumped its head against his knuckles before trying to climb up. Its claws sunk into his skin and hooked, legs twitching and jerking as it clumsily pulled itself up onto Clint’s forearm. He didn’t mind, uncaring of the beads of blood that were immediately washed away by the rain. He couldn’t feel the pain, the irritation of the claws in his skin making tiny puncture wounds, his skin still far too cold and wet to feel anything besides the weight of the small creature. He could only hope that the tiny wounds didn’t itch too much later. “Hey, buddy.” Clint greeted quietly, bringing his other hand up to cup the kitten’s backside in order to keep it balanced while he slowly stood. “How do you feel about coming home with me?” He asked, bringing the kitten up to his face. He wondered if Lucky would be okay with a cat. Natasha would love it, never once admitting it. The kitten bumped its nose against Clint’s, and that was way more than enough for Clint. 

“Alright then,” He muttered, lowering his hand and the kitten down so he could usher the small creature into the pocket on his hoodie. The kitten waddled in unsteadily, curling up in the fabric once it was able and letting out a soft purr. Clint shoved his hands into the pocket, using whatever warmth his digits had to rub away the chill that wracked the animal’s body with tremors. “Let’s see if JARVIS will let me have another secret pet, yeah?” Clint smiled as he felt the kitten nibble on the end of his pointer finger, paws trying to hold the digit down and simultaneously get a better grip. 

The walk home no longer felt so miserable, instead, the precious package in his pocket kept him company. He was entertained by the kitten’s antics, chuckling as the kitten played with his hands and attacked whenever he tried to pull his arm away. Time seemed to fly, the half-mile he had left to walk back flying by until he found himself back at Avengers’ tower. The second he stepped into the elevator, thankfully empty, and pressed the button for his personal floor JARVIS spoke up, “Welcome back, Mr. Barton. Would you like me to keep your newest companion a secret from Sir as well?” the A.I asked smoothly. Clint grinned up at where he knew the sensors were, a moot action but something Clint knew the A.I appreciated nonetheless. 

“That’d be great, JARVIS, please?” Being polite never hurt anyone, either. 

“Of course, Mr. Barton.” 

When the elevator doors opened he was greeted by the sight of Lucky, big fluffy Golden Retriever, licking Natasha’s knee while the red-headed Russian glared uneffective daggers at the one-eyed mutt. Clint knew that Natasha liked lucky a lot more than she let on but she was far more enraptured by the sleek stealth and calm that the idea of cats typically gave. The idea of showing her the kitten in his pocket made his smile widened. 

Natasha looked up at him as he stepped out, eyebrow quirking at the drowned dog look he was sure he was giving off. A moment later, she grinned. It was sharp and deadly. “Get your dog.” She demanded. Lucky looked up at her curiously, glancing his way with a tail wag before returning to where he was now licking her shin. 

“No can do,” He replied with a soft shrug. He didn’t want to jostle the kitten. “I have my hands full.” He gently cupped the kitten around the middle and pulled it from his pocket. Natasha stared at the tiny creature for a moment, face blank and eyes calculating. It took a few moments for the grin he knew had been coming blossomed across her face, eyes glinting merrily as she stood and walking over. She carefully took the creature from his hands and pressed her forehead to the kitten’s. “Can you dry it off while I go and get changed? I found it out in the rain and who knows how long it’d been there.” 

Natasha gave him a curt nod, “She,” She corrected before pointing sternly to the hallway leading to his room. “Go,” She ordered, expression hard and leaving no room for argument. He knew she was looking out for him, since he tended to be pretty bad at that himself. With a nod, he left Natasha and the kitten to their own devices. He was positive that the cat was in good hands. 

It didn’t take him long to change, soaked hoodie and shorts tossed expertly into the laundry bin in the corner of the room and t-shirt and sweats swiped up from where they had been laid out on the bed. Natasha had known he was out when the rain had started and reacted accordingly, it seemed. He tried his hair on a towel in the bathroom and headed back out towards the living area of his floor. The sight he was greeted with sent warmth flooding through his system, soft and fulfilling. Natasha had the tiny black kitten wrapped in a small white towel, gently rubbing the soft material along the kitten’s body while Lucky sniffed at the new member of the family kindly. It was a satisfying feeling, the one he got watching the scene before him unfold for a minute. 

“You pick a name for her yet?” He asked, stepping closer and vaulting over the couch before falling back against the cushions. 

Natasha continued to dry her knew favorite tower occupant for a few seconds, the silence comfortably unrolling between the two- four- of them. “Ярость.” She sent him a calculated smirk. 

“Natasha,” He chuckled, “We can’t name it Rage.” 

“Her.” Natasha corrected. 

“We can’t name _her_ Rage.” Clint reassured. 

Natasha huffed, her version of a laugh, and her eyes almost sparkled with amusement, “No one would know.” She defended, tutting as the animal in her hands started clawing its way out of the towel. “She’s a fighter.” She whispered, stroking a thumb along the crown of his head which caused dampened fur to stick up. The kitten mewled, letting out a soft trill and a purr. 

Clint sadly smiled at the pair, eyes landing on Natasha as Lucky trotted over and nudged his way under Clint’s arm. “Yeah, she is.” He agreed. They were both aware they were no longer talking about the kitten, but it was an unspoken agreement not to mention that out loud. 

“Yeah,” Natasha murmured, bringing the kitten to her face much like Clint had earlier. The kitten again butted her head against the human in front of her. Clint was beginning to think he was her greeting. “And he’s a loyal mess.” Natasha gaze at Lucky, and then Clint. 

Clint couldn’t help that laugh that forced itself out, he laid his hand on Lucky’s head. The dog licked his fingers merrily, pressing his nose to Clint’s palm. One impossibly expressive brown eye blinked up at him almost expectedly, “Yeah, he is. Wouldn’t trade ‘em for the world though.” He agreed, scratching Lucky behind the ear and smiling when the dog’s tail went from a leisurely sway to a swishing high-speed weapon. He looked at Natasha again, watching the kitten clumsily paw at the agent’s small fingers. “Either of ‘em.” He reiterated. 

Natasha smiled at him, a real true smile that was often hidden behind harsh facades, “доверять.” She suggested finally, cupping the kitten’s back with her hand while the tiny animal continued to play with the fingers she wiggled in front of it- _her_. “Удачливый и доверять.” 

“Now, that’s a name.” Clint agreed readily, ruffling Lucky’s fur as the dog stood and trotted up to the kitten in Natasha’s lap. Lucky stared at the newly named cat for a moment before laying his head gently on the free space on Natasha’s thighs. The cat stared back, distracted from the finger that had stilled. Trust’s eyes widened, slitted pupils dilating. For a second Clint expected a scratch or maybe a hiss, but instead Trust reached out an uncoordinated paw and place it kindly on Lucky’s wet nose. Almost hesitantly Lucky licked the offered appendage in greeting and kindness. In response, Trust butted her head against his snout. 

Clint and Natasha shared a smile, a genuine one filled with remembrance of a past long since lived. Trust and Lucky. Trust and Luck. Natasha and Clint.


End file.
